


Paul and Suze in New York

by Emma_S



Category: Mediator Series - Meg Cabot
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:41:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28525644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_S/pseuds/Emma_S
Summary: Paul comes to Carmel-by-the sea with an offer for Suze- come to New York and help him with his ghost problem!Set a few years after book 6 (Twilight) and on an alternative timeline to Proposal and Remembrance.The story is complete.
Relationships: Paul Slater/Other(s), Susannah "Suze" Simon/Paul Slater
Kudos: 3





	Paul and Suze in New York

Paul and Suze in New York

As I stepped towards the doors of the Cliffside Inn, I couldn’t help but feel my knees shake a little. Mostly because I knew this wasn’t a good idea.

Why had I made such an effort? I mean, I told myself I needed to look good because when you look good, you feel confident.

I wasn’t buying it either.

I’d blow dried my hair and straightened it until it was falling like a shimmering curtain down my shoulders, redone my makeup at least three times and was now approaching the restaurant in a new green wrap dress and heels. It still didn’t help with the butterflies in my stomach.

Because I was meeting one of Los Angeles magazines most eligible bachelors.

Who also happened to be my former classmate, Paul Slater.

Our eyes locked across the many tables separating us as the waiter showed me to the one Paul had booked, in a somewhat private corner, next to the windows.

It was in that moment, where the sunset was framing him as he stood and smiled at me, that the butterflies turned to stone and my stomach dropped through the floor.

‘Why, Susannah Simon,’ he stepped forwards to greet me properly but I quickly lowered myself into the chair opposite. It was the wrong thing to do, because a spark of amusement lit up his eyes as he sat also, ‘you look even more lovely than I remember.’

So did he, but I wasn’t going to admit that. He cut quite the figure in his dark suit.

‘Paul,’ I nodded my head in acknowledgement.

‘Did you get the flowers I sent?’

‘Flowers?’ I asked innocently. Paul had been sending me flowers every Valentine's Day since Jesse and I had broken up. It infuriated me that, somehow, he’d found out, considering I kept an extremely low profile on social media. The guy must have an informant somewhere.

My and Jesse’s break up had been mutual, and we were still friends. However, since Jesse’s medical residency was a good four hours away, our friendship consisted of meeting for dinner once a year and the occasional text.

Officially, the break up had been caused by us growing apart and sharing different values, but I had suspected I’d reminded him too much of his time being a ghost.  
I’d respected that- Jesse deserved to move on with his new life- but having flowers sent by Paul every Valentine's to remind me that there were plenty of fish in the sea didn’t help my mood.

‘Look Paul,’ I said, breaking the pretence. ‘I’m still mad about my house.’ Paul had emailed me a few days ago to inform me that he’d bought my house from my mother and Andy, and was now planning to knock it down for some new development. ‘I only came here because you said you had a proposal for me.’

‘How else was I supposed to get your attention?’ he asked as he poured the wine he’d ordered for the table into our glasses. ‘You’ve ignored every other attempt I’ve made to contact you. But, really, I thought we could reminisce about old times before we got down to business.’

‘I’m not in the mood.’ I told him, but took a small sip of the wine, despite myself. ‘I swear, if all of this was a ruse to get me to come down here on a date with you, I’m going to stick this fork in your eye.’

‘Suze, Suze, Suze,’ Paul chided, circling a finger over the rim of his wine glass. ‘You always had such strong emotions when it came to me. Are you sure you’re not mistaking passion for hostility?’

I wasn’t proud of it, but my hand gripped the fork.

Paul laughed. He really was either a sociopath or he thought I was, indeed, joking. Admittedly, if I spoiled his bachelor-of-the-year looks, he now had a team of lawyers who would make my life a misery, so perhaps Paul knew he had nothing to worry about.

‘I’m sorry- I’m sorry. I just- I really have missed this- our little back and forths. You were always so easy to wind up…’ Paul reached for my hand on the table but I pulled it back. The sparkle in his eyes faltered slightly before returning. ‘It makes a nice change too. These days, women are just-.’

‘That’s enough, I don’t want to hear about what other women are doing.’

‘There’s no need to be jealous. You know that I-.’

I slid my chair back sharply and rose to my feet. I didn’t care that this was a fancy restaurant and I was drawing attention, I wasn’t going to sit through a whole dinner with Paul teasing me.

‘Suze, wait. Here’s my proposal- come with me to New York.’

*

I sat back down in my chair. Not because I was interested in his proposal or anything, it was mainly shock.

‘What?’

‘I want to hire you- as a consultant of sorts.’

‘What skills could I possibly possess that you would need to hire me for?’

Paul glanced around the room to make sure there was no longer anyone paying attention to us, then leaned towards me. ‘I have a ghost problem,’ he whispered.

I burst out laughing. I mean, I started laughing so hard, with these great big cackles, that everyone started looking at us again.

‘Paul Slater has a ghost problem?’ I asked more quietly, since Paul had started shifting in his seat at the amount of unwanted attention. ‘You have got to be kidding me?’

Our conversation stopped momentarily when the waiter approached for us to order. I put the wineglass to my mouth, trying to hide my smile. I had definitely decided to stay, only to hear the story of what ghost problem Paul Slater couldn’t handle himself.

‘So,’ I said, picking up the conversation when the waiter was a decent enough distance away. ‘I thought you were off living the minor celebrity lifestyle, attending movie premieres and dating models- that doesn’t necessarily scream ghost problems to me.’

‘Simon, I’m touched,’ Paul put a hand to his chest to further punctuate the sentiment. ‘I hadn’t realised you cared so much to be keeping such close tabs on me after all.’

I just rolled my eyes at this. My nonchalance was feigned. I had been following Paul’s exploits, only it wasn’t because I was still interested in him. It was fascinating, having a former classmate become a minor celebrity, being pictured going on dates with soap opera actresses. I couldn’t help but notice that he’d never been pictured with the same girl twice.

‘Besides,’ he told me. ‘Do you know how many ghosts come along with that kind of lifestyle? Ex-spouses who mysteriously disappeared- because divorce was too expensive- suddenly turning back up? Ex-business partners who’d been screwed over? I mean, I try to ignore them but some work out that I can see them eventually.’

I raised my eyebrows doubtfully. ‘And, once they start causing you a nuisance, you don’t make them disappear?’

‘Well,’ Paul glanced at the waiter as the appetisers arrived. ‘Not every single one. I don’t want to go the same way Pops did.’

Indeed, Paul’s grandfather, Dr. Oliver Slaski, had been extremely frail and very sick the last time I’d met him. He’d told me, during one of his more lucid moments, it had been the result of the toll it had taken on his body, when he’d used his powers as a mediator- or a shifter, as he liked to call it- to, in his own words, play God.

A toll that made him, eventually, pass away.

‘Let me get this straight,’ I said, as I gulped wine and tucked into my food. ‘You want me to mediate away a ghost because you can’t?’

‘That’s it. It’ll just involve coming along to New York with me in my private jet, and staying with me in my penthouse there until we can get this issue sorted.’

Alarm bells started ringing and red flashing lights went off before my eyes. ‘Paul!’

He held up his hands. ‘Relax Simon, it’s a three bedroom penthouse. You’ll have your own separate bedroom and I’ll promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.’

‘Where have I heard that before?’ I muttered. ‘I’m sorry Paul, the answer is no.’

‘I’ll pay you.’

I almost choked on my food. ‘That’s even worse. I’m not some Sugar Baby!’

Paul smiled. ‘That’s such a shame- you’d make a heck of a good one. But, for one moment, get your mind outta the gutter Suze. I’m talking about a legitimate, professional business transaction.

‘Cash in some vacation days from your little job at the Mission Academy and do some freelance consultancy for me. This…’ Paul grabbed a napkin and, whipping out a very fancy pen from somewhere in his suit, he swiftly wrote on it and slid it over to me, ‘... is how much I’ll pay you for, lets say, two weeks of your time?’

It was the cheesiest gesture he could’ve made to impress me but, when I saw the number on the napkin, my eyes bugged out.

‘Are you serious?’

Paul looked extremely pleased to have caught my attention in this way. ‘Do excuse the pun but, deadly. You’re worth it, you’re a professional after all, and I happen to know you have extensive experience in this area. If you do say yes, and you do a good job, maybe I won’t redevelop your beloved former home after all, maybe I’ll just sell it on?’

I swallowed audibly, weighing up my options. Having finished with our appetizers, the waiter returned with the main courses, but I was beginning to feel sick. The reason? I was actually starting to consider taking the offer.

‘C’mon Suze, say yes. Unless...?’ Paul took a bite of the butterfly chicken he’d ordered. He chewed it, purposefully slowly, and took a sip of wine before continuing, ‘...unless you’re worried that spending so much time in such close proximity will cause you to give in to all those primal urges you’re currently feeling towards me?’ Paul couldn’t help but sweep his blue-eyed gaze downwards as he said that.

I narrowed my eyes at him. I knew he was baiting me and I felt myself rising to it.

‘Did I also mention that it’d be half up front?’

‘Let me think about it,’ I told him.

Paul brightened even more, as if I’d just given him the resounding yes he wanted. ‘Of course.’

For the rest of the meal, Paul even managed to be somewhat pleasant as I picked at my food. After he’d paid for dinner and walked me out, he gave me his card.

‘My personal number is written on the back. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.’

As I found a cab to take me home, Paul caught my hand. He looked me sincerely in the eyes.

‘Thank you for a lovely evening.’ He lowered his lips to my hand and kissed it, making sure to keep eye contact with me the entire time. ‘Be sure to give me a call when you’ve made up your mind.’

I didn’t know how to respond so I turned and jumped into the car. The entire ride back, I thought about Paul’s offer. As I went about getting ready for bed and collapsed onto my pillow, the amount he’d written down on the napkin circled about behind my eyelids.

I couldn’t get to sleep.

Surely making a deal with Paul was worse than making a deal with the devil? I knew I was going to regret it but, as I tossed and turned, I finally gave in and looked at my phone. It was two in the morning.

I grabbed his card from my bedside table and punched his number into my phone. I texted two letters- one was O, the other, K.

Instantly, my phone rang. Gritting my teeth, I answered it.

‘Thinking about me at this time in the morning, Simon? I’m very flattered.’

‘I’m accepting your proposal so I can have enough money to live, Paul. The Mission Academy doesn’t exactly pay well, or at all really. So I’d like to take you up on your offer- at the price you initially proposed.’ If this was strictly business, I wanted to sound the part.

‘Excellent- I’ve already arranged for a car to pick you up at 9:30 in the morning tomorrow. Make sure you’re ready. I promise, you won’t regret this Suze.’

I couldn’t believe he’d already made the arrangements. ‘Yeah right.’

I cut him off without saying goodbye, lay face down on my bed and groaned. I couldn’t believe I now had a trip to New York to pack for.

*

The car that Paul had arranged to pick me up? It was a black limousine. Well, a small one. A full length one wouldn’t have fit down the street I was living on.

The driver came out to take my luggage. He was very professional, not even blinking at the amount of suitcases I’d packed.

I thanked him politely as he opened the door for me. The interior was plush and comfortable, with great air conditioning, and there was a selection of refreshments. I skipped on the champagne and picked up a mineral water, knowing I’d need a clear head on the eight hour flight to New York.

When we got to the airport and the driver pulled up to the entrance of the building, I swore.

Paparazzi were stationed at the doors and they’d suddenly come alive upon seeing a limousine enter their sights. They were shouting and flashing their cameras, even as they couldn’t see who was in the car behind the tilted windows.

All I could do was stare in amazement.

The driver just stayed where he was, in the car, waiting.

That’s when I saw Paul Slater emerge from the building, wearing designer sunglasses and flashing his white teeth, waving at them all happily and shouting out a casual, ‘How’re you doing?’

I watched, frozen, as the paparazzi turned to him, flashes after flashes going off.

And then Paul himself opened the limo door to reveal me.

He leaned in and offered a hand to help me out.

‘Hi Suze.’

I was being dazzled by the flashes still popping all around us.

‘You set this up,’ I hissed, making no move to get out of the car.

‘C’mon Suze, the longer you sit here, the more pictures they’ll get.’

He was right. With a frustrated grunt, I took his hand. I wasn’t too stubborn to refuse help climbing out of a limo- it was extremely hard to do gracefully.

Still, Paul had the audacity to put an arm around my shoulders as we made our way in together. I wasn’t wholly unappreciative of this in the moment, as his body managed to shield me from the reporters on one side. I shook my hair down a little on the other and looked down. The paps followed us as far as they could until security stopped them.

I pulled away from Paul as soon as we were out of sight. We were still being herded by his entourage of employees to one side of the airport.

‘Why did you do that?’

Paul shrugged. ‘It comes with the territory. That was only a fraction of the crowd that tries following me around in L.A.’

‘You were hoping he would end up seeing the picture, weren’t you? Ugh! Well, good luck, it’s not like he reads any of the gossip pages.’

Paul had the indecency to look bored. ‘Suze, I really have no idea what you’re accusing me of. I just sent the car out for you so you’d have a comfortable ride to the airport before our flight.’

I was still thinking through the pictures the reporters could’ve gotten. Without any context, it looked like he was taking me on a romantic weekend getaway. I didn’t know what I was going to say to my Mom and Andy if they ever saw them.

We were just about to step out of the building, onto the tarmac, when I stopped.

‘I shouldn’t even get on that plane with the stunt you just pulled.’

Everyone around us paused and looked at Paul, who gave them a small nod. All of his people continued on, leaving us inside.

Paul crossed his arms and leaned against the glass wall. ‘I’ve already paid you the half upfront.’

I crossed my arms, stubbornly planting my feet on the floor. ‘I don’t care.’

‘You really should- I could sue you for breach of contract.’

‘I never signed anything.’

‘It was a verbal agreement. Even if you pay me back the money, I bet I could make something stick. My team of highly paid lawyers certainly could.’

I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Wouldn’t I, Suze?’ His smug, bright blue eyes bore into me as he dared me to contradict him.

I let out another small grunt of frustration and marched passed him, out of the doors, because of course he would. I wouldn’t put anything past Paul at this point. He had the audacity to whistle a jaunty tune behind me, all the way to the jet.

Being on a private jet with Paul wasn’t so bad. For starters, it wasn’t just the two of us, there was all sorts of personnel on board, including Paul’s own flight attendant who kept offering us champagne and mimosas.

Plus, after take off, there was lots of space to move around, which meant ignoring Paul was that much easier. Accepting the fact that I didn’t want to talk to him, Paul pulled out a laptop from a briefcase and started doing some work. At least, that’s what I assumed he was doing. For all I knew, he could have been playing Tetris.

I found a comfy white chair in front of a flatscreen and switched it on. Making it recline as far it would go, I finally accepted the champagne, despite how early it was, and picked a movie to watch. My eyes felt heavy from the lack of sleep I’d gotten the night before.

*

I woke up with a start and looked around. Paul was still on his laptop.

‘It was just a bit of turbulence,’ he told me, without even looking up, as if in explanation. I hadn’t even realised that was what had woken me up.

‘Where is everyone?’

Paul looked up and gave me a mocking smile. ‘You scared them away with your snoring.’

‘Very funny.’

I came over to the chairs we’d sat in for take off and, on a side table near them was a platter full of bread, cheese and cold meats.

‘You missed lunch.’ Paul closed his laptop. ‘Feeling less cranky?’

‘You always make me cranky,’ I shot back, perusing the lunch leftovers.

‘That’s because, around me, you’re at war with yourself Suze. I can see it. You want me but you won’t let yourself,’ he smirked and tilted his head playfully, ‘have me.’  
I shook my head in disbelief. ‘I never got it Paul, I never got why you couldn’t take no for an answer.’

He gave me an appreciative look up and down. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘There were plenty of other girls at Junipero Serra Mission Academy that you could have looked at.’

‘Of course,’ he started ticking the names off on his fingers, ‘Kelly Prescott, Debbie Mancuso…’

I made a retching sound. ‘Yes, I get it. So- why?’

Paul narrowed his eyes slightly, and gave me that signature smirk. Really, nothing about him had changed. ‘Honestly? I wanted a girlfriend I didn’t have to lie to.’

That hadn’t been the answer I was expecting. ‘What?’

Paul turned away, breaking our staring contest. He wasn’t usually the first to blink. ‘Do you remember where we first met?’

‘Yes,’ I’d fashioned myself a cheddar and salami sandwich and had just taken a huge bite. I was starving. I swallowed the wad of bread, cheese and meat before replying. ‘The Pebble Beach Hotel and Golf Resort.’

‘Exactly, and when Jack first told me that his babysitter, Suze Simon, believed that he could see ghosts, I thought you were just patronizing the poor kid. Even after I confronted you about it, and you said you believed in ghosts, I assumed you were just one of those girls.’

‘“One of those girls”?’ I repeated, sitting back down on the comfy chairs with my sandwich.

‘Yeah y’know,’ Paul crossed his ankles and sat back. ‘The ones that do séances and read their horoscopes everyday?’

I leaned towards him, intrigued. ‘So how did you know for certain?’ At this, Paul did manage to look slightly uncomfortable. ‘Oh,’ I sat back. ‘Her.’

He shrugged. ‘Maria was very convincing. All she wanted me to do was take you out- which I already wanted to do. You were hung up on this ghost guy-’

‘Jesse.’

‘Actually, she said Hector de Silva. But whatever. Anyway, I thought helping to get rid of him would be for the best- I was doing you a favour. Suze, he was already dead.’

I crossed my arms and sat back in my chair. Reminding me about how he’d schemed with Maria- even before he’d fully known me- hadn’t been a good idea and Paul realised this.

‘Anyway, back to why you? Having to lie to every girl I dated- it just made it seem fake. Like she would never know the real me. It wasn’t worth my time. Until you.’

‘Save it Paul.’

‘Suze - I mean it. It seemed like destiny. How many other shifters was I going to meet- who were the same age as me, no less. We would’ve been great together- if only you’d given it a chance.’

I didn’t reply. Instead, I just continued eating my sandwich, contemplating Paul’s words.

If I’d never met Jesse- if I’d never had Father Dom to guide me either- would I have felt the same way? Like meeting Paul was destiny?

How lonely would it have been, being the only one?

But then I remembered that Jack had talked about seeing ghosts non-stop, and Paul had done nothing.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel so bad for him anymore.

Getting through security when you’d just arrived in a private jet was surprisingly quick. Before I knew it, our luggage was being loaded into a town car, not an ostentatious limousine- and we were being driven into Manhattan.

I tried not to look too impressed when the two of us were dropped off in front of Paul’s building. Paul politely told the doorman that rushed towards us that we’d be fine bringing up our own bags.

Finally, many flights up, the elevator dinged and we stepped out into a small foyer. As Paul opened the door, he paused.

‘Just… prepare yourself.’

‘Please Paul- I’m not an amateur.’

He shrugged and opened the door. I had learned by now in Paul’s life to always expect luxurious and I wasn’t disappointed. The living area had modern, understated- but obviously designer- furniture and round a corner I spied a sparkling kitchen. Mostly, the design was monochrome with rare splashes of rich colours.

And then a tall, extremely angry, red head came flying at me. Which wasn’t weird- I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of vengeful females, attempting to tear my hair out. Only this one? This one wasn’t dead.

‘Paul - who is this?!’ the girl shouted as she tried to attack me. ‘Why have you bought this hussey home? Huh? Did you think I wouldn’t be home this early?’

Paul rolled his eyes, not even attempting to help me out as I was struggling to hold back razor sharp, egg-shell blue painted nails from scratching my face . ‘Monique - quit the act.’

‘Is this your girlfriend?’ I asked incredulously, still wrestling her away from me. This girl was relentless. Finally, I managed to stomp down on her instep and she yelped and jumped away, hopping around on one foot.

‘She wishes. Suze- Monique, Monique- Suze,’ he introduced us. 

‘ _The_ Suze?’ Monique looked me up and down and stopped looking so homicidal. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realise.’

Paul had already made his way to the sleek kitchen. After glaring at Monique, I followed him, fuming, and saw he’d fixed himself a scotch on the rocks.

‘You brought me home to meet your girlfriend?’

He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped before answering. ‘She’s not my girlfriend. She just likes to act like it when I bring girls home because she’s a pain in my ass.’

‘Well, I hate to break it to you, Paul,’ I told him, cursing myself for trusting him. It was so like him not to tell me the whole story, ‘but this Monique girl is very much alive. I can’t help you.’

I turned on my heel only to smack into something solid. At first, I thought Monique had run into the kitchen for round two but, as this person reached out to steady me, I noticed this person had a distinct spectral glow.

‘Susan?’ the person’s voice was vaguely familiar and the ghost seemed to know my name, some variant of it, anyway. I peered at them, confused.

‘Dr. Slaski?’

I hadn’t recognised him at first. He wasn’t the frail, bedridden old man I’d first seen in a house right off Carmel Beach- he was younger in this ghost form, roughly middle aged.

‘This,’ Paul declared, gesturing with his glass after taking another sip of scotch, ‘is my ghost problem.’

‘You want me to get rid of your grampa for you?’ I asked, shocked.

‘Of course he does,’ Dr Slaski scowled at his grandson, clearly there was still no love lost between them. ‘I told you a long time ago my grandson was a fool. He’s tried every trick in his book to get rid of me but he’s somehow forgotten everything he learned was from my research.’

Paul scowled and moved past both of us, back into the living area where Monique, now much calmer, had given up the pretense of “wronged girlfriend” and was watching TV.

He settled into an armchair, put his feet on the glass topped coffee table and switched the channel over.

‘Hey!’

‘My penthouse, my choice,’ he shot back at her. ‘You’re no better than a squatter.’

I shook my head as I stood, surveying the scene. Dr Slaski had also made himself comfortable, in the armchair opposite Paul’s. He stared at his grandson with a mixture of concern and frustration.

‘So,’ I said, placing my hands on my hips, ‘catch me up- what’s going on here?’

‘This one,’ Paul pointed to Monique, although his eyes never left the TV, ‘and this one,’ he pointed to his grampa, ‘won’t leave.’

‘We will,’ Dr. Slaski countered, ‘if he gives us what we want.’

‘Yeah,’ Monique piled on. ‘It really is as simple as that.’

My gaze settled on Monique. ‘So you’re a Mediator too?’

‘Shifter,’ all three corrected me at once.

‘Right, shifter,’ I rolled my eyes, ‘so- Monique- what is it that you want?’

Monique gave me a look which suggested she thought I was stupid. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Money.’

*

Paul was now ignoring the conversation but I really wasn’t going to get anywhere near knowing all the facts whilst his surly presence was in the room.

‘Paul, would you give us a moment?’

‘It’s my penthouse,’ he repeated.

‘Yes,’ I said, rounding on him, ‘and if you want it ghost and… Monique free, you’ll give us some privacy.’

Paul, again, rolled his eyes but complied. I watched as he moped off into another room- his bedroom?- and shut the door a little too hard.

‘So,’ I calmly lowered myself into the armchair he’d just vacated, not wanting to be within scratching distance of Monique on the couch. ‘Tell me why you’re both haunting Paul.’

‘Well,’ Dr. Slaski said, cutting off whatever Monique had been about to say as she’d just opened her cherry-pink lip gloss covered mouth. ‘It all started with that research I did in ancient Egypt.

‘All the research I did was all in conjunction with Monique’s grandfather, Adrian Stevens.’

‘Adrian Stevens?’ I repeated. It was a long time ago now since I was in Paul’s room, looking at those newspaper clippings but I couldn’t remember any mention of him.

‘Adrian and I had a- a big falling out,’ Dr. Slaski continued, ‘just before our team went to Egypt. The discoveries we made there weren’t just information on Shifters - the team also found many historically important artifacts.’

Monique turned to me, ‘In other words, treasure.’

I gave Monique the biggest fake smile I could muster- I really hadn’t needed the translation.

‘Naturally, the team were well compensated in the form of a finders fee. I must admit, myself more than most. It was how I managed to stay so comfortable even after I was laughed at by most of the academic community.’

‘But because he,’ Monique pointed to Dr. Slaski accusingly, ‘went to Egypt without him, my gramps didn’t get any of it.’

Dr. Slaski looked slightly bashful. ‘I’m afraid it’s true. In life, I was extremely bitter about our argument and never shared any of the fortune with Adrian. It’s my unfinished business, you see. I came back to make amends.

‘I want my grandson to give Monique the money I never gave Adrian.’

I nodded slowly. It seemed a fair enough request. ‘And how much is that exactly?’

At this, Dr. Slaski hesitated. ‘It is quite a bit. The money I never gave over-,’

‘-plus interest-,’ Monique cut in,

‘-is about half Paul’s net worth.’

‘Oh,’ I let the syllable hang in the air for a second. Suddenly I could understand Paul’s sour mood. ‘I see.’

I stayed up talking with Dr. Slaski and Monique until late, trying to understand their viewpoint. It was a fair one but I doubted I would convince Paul to see it that way.

From what I had gathered, Monique was staying in Paul’s penthouse until he gave her the money her grandfather had been cheated out of, and Dr Slaski was helping her in an attempt to make amends for his past misdeeds.

By the time we’d talked it through, I was beat and, since Paul hadn’t reappeared, helped myself to the third bedroom.

*

‘So you see my predicament,’ Paul said, taking a sip of his beer.

When I’d woken up the next morning, I’d had the apartment to myself. Not sure what to do, I’d laid on the sofa watching TV and had mooched around the penthouse until Paul returned from his business meetings. It was my vacation days I was using after all.

Paul had suggested heading to a bar. I’d agreed, needing a drink. The sums of money involved in this family dispute was making my head spin.

I’d excused myself to shower and, once ready, found the living space empty. He’d been watching TV on the flatscreen at the end of his King size. I’d stopped at the doorway of Paul’s bedroom, not trusting myself to venture any further inside when I’d told him I was good to go.

‘Why not just give Monique the money?’ I asked, taking a swig of my own beer. I know Paul was paying me quite a bit for this little jaunt back to New York but I was wondering now whether it felt like enough. I hadn’t banked on getting caught in the middle of a family feud. ‘I know it’s a lot, but I also know how much you’re going to make on that new development when you tear down my house.’

‘Oh Suze, Suze, Suze- that’s not the point. Do you know where I’d be if I let just anyone who came knocking take what they thought I owed them? I’d be as poor as you.’

I raised my eyebrows as Paul laughed at his own joke. Clearly he didn’t understand that making jokes at other people’s expense wasn’t the way to get said people to help you.

He cleared his throat. ‘Besides, Monique and Pops have been harassing me for a year now. You don’t know what it’s been like.’

‘Then tell me.’

‘Well, like I said, it’s been a year.’ Paul pushed his hand through his brown curls, and sat back into the booth. ‘The first time I saw Pops again, I was in the penthouse. It was late and I was getting ready to go out. He just showed up on my couch. Then he told me _he_ wanted _me_ to give away half of _my_ money to some stranger because he wanted to make amends? I laughed all the way to the lobby.’

I swigged down the last few gulps of my beer and set the bottle on the table. Paul signalled to the waitress for two more.

‘So then Monique turned up?’

Paul shook his head. ‘Not straight away. Pops tried a few times after that.’

I gave Paul a doubtful look. ‘If your pops showing up annoyed you so much, why didn’t you just make him disappear?’

Admittedly, it wasn’t something I’d do, take a ghost forcibly to the other realm and make them go to whatever was next, but I knew Paul had done it plenty of times.

Paul feigned shock. ‘Really, Suze? Is that what you take me for? Someone who would take his own grandfather to that place?’

I didn’t even reply. Paul just shrugged.

‘Pops knows all the tricks. Hell, he was the one that wrote down everything I learned. At first, he wouldn’t let me get close enough. Then, the moment I got a chance and we ended up there, he popped right back.’

‘You mean…’

‘Yep, once a shifter, always a shifter, and that’s when he got Monique involved.

‘I’d brought a date back to the penthouse. When I opened the door, Monique ran at her and pulled the same trick she tried to pull with you, pretending she was my girlfriend and I’d been caught. She’s done the same thing with every girl I’ve bought back since. And, let me tell you, they’ve all believed I’m just some cheating jerk.’

Paul absentmindedly rubbed the side of his jaw, as though remembering the pain of being slapped across the face by those women. He’d probably received quite a few kicks in the crotch too.

I smirked into my bottle. Monique knew exactly how to get under his skin.

‘I called security and Pops jammed the elevator, with them in it, so they couldn’t even get to my floor. Every time I’ve tried to boot her out, he’s shown up to let her back in. She eats from my fridge, she drinks my scotch and she leaves women’s magazines everywhere.’

He sounded like he was complaining about a girlfriend he’d just moved in with.

Paul jabbed a finger in the air in frustration. ‘I even left them to that apartment, left New York and went to Vermont to stay, but Pops always finds me and makes sure Monique gets there too.’

He paused to take a few more gulps of his drink, then sighed. ‘But I came to find you, because, four days ago, things took a violent turn- Pops tried to kill me.’

*

I choked on my beer. ‘What- Dr. Slaski tried to kill you?’

‘Yeah, he must’ve gotten tired of trying to convince me,’ Paul frowned, ‘probably figured that if I croaked, Jack would inherit and he’d be more sympathetic to their plight.’

That didn’t sound like Paul’s grandpa. The ghost I’d met at the apartment had seemed a little frustrated, sure, but also concerned about his grandson. ‘What happened?’

‘I was getting ready for a meeting about the development, was doing up my tie and he lifted me into the air by it. Pops tried to hang me.’

Paul gestured toward his neck and there were indeed bruises, although they were now fading. I still couldn’t believe Dr. Slaski was capable of such a thing.

‘Did you actually look up and see your grandad holding your tie?’

‘No,’ Paul admitted, ‘but who else was going to haul me up four feet above the floor and strangle me?’

‘Was Monique there?’ She obviously couldn’t have done it but I was wondering if she’d been there to witness it.

He shook his head. ‘She was out somewhere. Maybe she knew what he was going to do and made sure she wasn’t around when it happened.

‘C’mon,’ Paul stood up and pulled on his jacket. ‘Let’s get out of here- I’m hungry.’

I remained in my seat. ‘They serve food here.’

‘Yeah, chicken wings,’ Paul smiled at me as he held out his hand. ‘Let’s go somewhere a little classier. Let me treat you.’

I smiled sweetly back. Then I slid out of the booth without his help and stepped around him to lead the way, making him follow.

We got a cab to a restaurant that was more likely to meet Paul’s obviously high standards, which usually meant the restaurant had to have at least one Michelin star.

Neither of us were dressed to go out to dinner but the maître d' didn’t even blink as he greeted us and showed us to our table.

We ordered pan fried calamari with hot cherry peppers as our appetizer and, as I bit into it, the flavours danced along my tongue. I moaned slightly.

Paul’s eyes lit up with amusement. ‘If only you’d give me the chance to make you moan like that.’

I snorted and rolled my eyes, but continued chewing reverently. The food was to die for. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until I smelled the food on our plates but I knew meals like this couldn’t be wolfed down, they had to be enjoyed.

For the main, I had the sliced fillet mignon with cipollini onions, and Paul ordered the seared tenderloin with butter poached lobster tails. As we ate, we barely spoke a word, much less about Monique and Dr. Slaski.

By the time we were done, I was full and had to decline dessert, no matter how much Paul coaxed me to at least order one to share.

‘So, had a nice evening?’ he asked in the cab back to his apartment.

‘Surprisingly, yes.’ I admitted it grudgingly as I looked out of the window, watching each block pass by. I did love New York. It was nice, seeing the lights of the city at night time, how everything was right on your doorstep, and how, even at midnight, the city was awake.

The cab pulled up outside Paul’s place and he stumbled climbing out of it.

‘Woah, easy there.’ I came around to make sure he’d found his feet.

‘I’m fine,’ he gave me that signature smirk.

‘Are you sure you’re not feeling the effects of mixing beer and the wine we had at dinner?’ I raised my eyebrows.

Paul narrowed his eyes at me and tilted his head to the side playfully, ‘Are you showing concern for me Suze?’

I withdrew my hands. ‘Of course not, I just don’t want you to yak on my shoes in the elevator.’

‘Right,’ he put his arm around me and we walked together to the lobby doors. ‘What was I thinking?’

The apartment was dark and quiet when we entered. Paul went around switching on lights.

‘Where’s Monique?’ I asked, looking around and blinking at the bright lights.

‘Probably out,’ Paul replied from the kitchen. ‘She comes and goes as she pleases. To be honest, I’m glad for the peace and quiet. Nightcap?’

‘I don’t think I should,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I don’t think you should either.’

‘C’mon Suze. I know you. You’ll have this very complex issue of mine solved in no time. At least let me enjoy the pleasure of your company for the short time you’re here.’

It was strange. One moment I was talking to Paul, the next, he was gone. My eyes weren’t fast enough to trace the movement as he was thrown backwards. I heard the thud before I realised he’d collided with the living room wall.

Paul swore.

Slowly, he was slid up, until- just like the incident he’d described- he was several feet off the floor, making choking noises and grasping at his throat.

Now, there was a part of me, whilst we were both at Junipero Serra Mission Academy together, that would have been quite pleased to see Paul being choked to death against the wall, his eyes bulging like a frog’s as he gasped for air.

But, now that I was faced with it, it was down right scary.

The lights started flickering as I looked around, trying to see the ghost who was attacking Paul. They had to be doing it with a great amount of psychic power, otherwise Paul and I would both have seen his attacker with their hands wrapped around his throat.

Everything in the apartment started shaking violently. I let out a scream as the windows were thrown open, letting the suddenly stormy winds blow in.

A lamp levitated into the air and made a beeline for Paul. I ran forwards and jumped in front of it, whacking it out of its trajectory.

The coffee table was next.

It sailed past, right above me. I jumped for it but not high enough. It arced through the air.

The table smashed against Paul and he dropped, landing in a heap on the floor. I heard him take a big gasp of breath.

‘Paul?’ I knelt down next to him, my eyes roving over him to assess his injuries. The overhead lights weren’t flickering anymore. It seemed our dead assailant had disappeared as suddenly as he’d come.

Paul groaned a little, then coughed.

‘I told you they were trying to kill me,’ he rasped.

I made sure to carefully push back some of the debris before helping him up.

‘You’re bleeding.’

Paul took off his jacket and looked at his arm. ‘It’s only where I fell on the glass. The jacket took most of it.’

‘There could be glass in the wound.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m fine,’ he gestured towards the kitchen. ‘There’s a first aid kit in there.’

I tried to support him as we made our way to the kitchen. Steadying him against the counter, I reached up into the cupboard he pointed out.

Unfortunately, Paul also had a few grazes along his side, so he had to take his shirt off while I treated them. I bit my lip when I saw how well defined his chest was and turned away to sort through the contents of the first aid box. I wondered idly how long he must spend at the gym each day to look like that.

‘Someone really does have it in for you,’ I commented.

Although I’d dealt with my fair share of homicidal ghosts, my heart was still beating a mile a minute. The adrenaline kicked through my body and made my hands shake as I cleaned the cuts on Paul’s arm.

Paul watched as I worked. ‘You’re really good at this. Maybe you should have been the one to become the doctor.’

At Paul’s reference to Jesse, I lowered my eyes.

‘Hey,’ Paul took my hand. ‘I really am sorry you two didn’t work out. You both seemed like you were in it for the long haul.’

‘Yeah right.’ When I still didn’t meet his eyes, he put his hand on my cheek and gently coaxed my gaze toward him.

‘Hey.’ He had this way, this way of looking so sincerely at you, with those rockstar lashes of his lowered, that made you think he only had eyes for you. I knew that this was a trait a lot of successful womanizer’s possessed but, at that moment, I was going weak at the knees. ‘I mean it.’

And he leaned down and kissed me.

*

I had forgotten just how good a kisser Paul Slater was. In fact, he was so much better than I remembered.

And a vague thought entered my mind, that he’d probably improved with practice.

But that thought quickly got swept aside by the thrills I was feeling run all through my body. All thoughts seemed to disappear from my mind, Paul’s kissing was just that good.

Paul reacted to my reciprocation with such enthusiasm, he spun us around and suddenly I was the one leaning against the counter, then I was on the counter and he was running his hands up and down my back as he kissed me.

‘Well, well, well,’ Monique stood at the end of the kitchen with her hands on her hips. ‘Looks like I’m interrupting.’

At being caught, and coming back to my senses, I slid off the counter, shamefully adjusting some clothing that had gotten dangerously hiked up.

I looked at Paul, half-expecting him to have some sly grin and quick quip ready for Monique.

Paul, instead, looked ashamed. He wouldn’t even look in Monique’s direction.

I glanced back to Monique. As much as her posture screamed sassy and defiant, she wasn’t meeting Paul’s eyes either. She actually looked a little bit hurt.

And then I wondered what I’d just gotten in the middle of.

If what I was just realising was indeed true, it was extremely strange. Paul had accused her of conspiring to murder him, for goodness sake.

The situation was so awkward, none of us knew what to make of it. Monique turned and left first with a muttered, ‘please don’t stop on my account.’ Paul and I looked at each other and, with that look, more was exchanged than ever could have been with words.

Paul and Monique had feelings for each other.

*

In the morning, I was rudely awakened by Monique plonking her behind down on the bed.

‘You sleep really ugly.’

‘Thanks,’ I touched my hair. Of course I had a really nasty case of the frizzies but I hadn’t expected someone to burst into the room so early in the morning.

‘So you and Paul huh?’

‘No, not me and Paul,’ I threw off the duvet and climbed out of bed. ‘It was a moment of weakness.’

Monique shrugged, feigning indifference. She’d already put on all of her makeup, straightened her hair and had on some choice jewellery, including enormous gold hoop earrings and gold bangles. ‘I don’t care- people always get back together with their exes. As long as you’re still willing to help me get my money.’

I felt my head slowly turn back to Monique. ‘Exes?’

‘Yeah,’ Monique played with her bangle bracelets. ‘Paul told me about you before. You used to go out in high school.’

‘We weren’t ever together.’ Monique raised her eyes to me, doubtful. ‘Well, not really.’

‘Like I said: I don’t care. I just wondered if you’d like to join me to go shopping this morning?’ She waved a credit card at me and waggled her perfectly shaped eyebrows. On the credit card was the name, Mr P Slater.

‘That’s stealing.’

‘Whatever, it’ll be a fraction of what I’m owed. I’ve done it before and he didn’t call the cops- he wasn’t even that mad. Paul’s got too much money to care.’

‘Isn’t there someone else you’d rather shop with?’

‘I don’t know that many other people in New York,’ Monique stated matter of factly.

‘How about we start with breakfast and go from there?’ I suggested, trying to get her out of the room so I could go and shower and get dressed.

‘Fine.’ Monique stood up and surveyed me dispassionately. ‘I’ll give you an hour. It looks like you’ll need it.’

After getting breakfast, Monique insisted on starting at Bloomingdales. She picked out outfit after outfit, talked at a hundred miles an hour, and I struggled to catch up.

‘Oh, this sweater would look so great on you. It would really suit your colouring- I’ve got to be so careful on the colours that I wear. There are so many that clash with my hair.’

I nodded somewhat feebly. As much as I’d protested, Monqiue insisted on choosing things for me. Every time she got to the maximum number of items we could conceivably carry, I got shoved in a dressing room.

‘So,’ I shouted through the dressing room partition. I was trying on a really nice, sky blue blouse- only the price made me feel a little ill. ‘Where are you from originally Monique?’

‘What has that got to do with anything?’ I could practically hear her roll her eyes as she leaned against the dressing room door. ‘Where I’m from isn’t going to make Paul pay up.’

I opened my mouth to retort but bit my tongue. I was meant to be working on conflict resolution, not picking fights of my own. ‘Okay- why do you think Paul hasn’t given you the money yet?’

‘I don’t know.’ There was a pause on the other side. ‘I think he likes having us around. Sometimes he even seems kind of lonely.’

‘Really?’ I opened the door. ‘You don’t think it’s got to do with the fact that his grandpa has made several attempts on his life?’

Several was a minor exaggeration, there had only been two that I know of.

Either Monique was a brilliant actress or she was genuinely confused. ‘Oliver hasn’t tried to kill Paul. He cares about him. The two of them patched things up a lot before he died. That’s why he gave everything to Paul.’

My mouth fell open. ‘Dr. Slaski gave Paul everything?’

‘Well, yeah. That’s why he’s applying to Paul for the money, because technically half of it is mine. And I need it too. That blouse does look nice- I was afraid it would make you look frumpy. Here,’ she held out something else, ‘try it with these jeans. They’ll look really good together.’

I reluctantly took the jeans and shut the door again. ‘You need the money?’

‘Yeah, I didn’t just randomly turn up on the doorstep begging. Oliver found me. I was already in New York. I was here to make my career as a model. I’d…,’ Monique hesitated. ‘I’d just been screwed out of a lot of money by my supposed agent.’

‘So Dr. Slaski found you in real need?’

I’d stuffed myself into the jeans by this point. Monique had a good eye- the jeans and blouse did truly go together well. I stepped out to show her, only to get a quick nod and a black dress and boots shoved into my arms.

‘Yeah, I couldn’t afford the place I was renting any longer. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.’

‘That must have been really hard,’ I sympathised. The show of empathy was somewhat curbed by the fact I was doing it on the other side of a changing room wall.  
Monique snorted. ‘Obviously. But the day I was packing up to go, Dr. Slaski appeared.’

‘What did he say?’

‘Just what I knew already. My own pops was always really sore on the money that Dr. Oliver Slaski cheated him out of. It made him bitter, right up until the very end. I grew up hearing him curse his former friend, especially when he got drunk.

‘Oliver explained that he felt he needed to make amends. He couldn’t see me in the situation I was in and not do something to help.’

I opened the door again in the black dress and boots, only to get another nod. Several outfits later, and we were heading towards the checkout.

‘That first showdown with Paul was interesting.’ Monique smiled, although the expression wasn’t so pleasant as it was scary. ‘His pops had already been bothering him for quite a while before he found me. Oliver told Paul that he thought putting a face to a name might make it more real for him.

‘And Paul turned around and said “Really? I thought you’d hired me a hooker as an apology.”’

I had to admit, I gasped. I knew Paul was a cad, but calling someone a prostitute was low.

‘So I kneed him in the balls,’ Monique continued. ‘Prick never called me that again.’

I let out a laugh, despite myself. Monique smiled more genuinely at me as the assistant rang up the items. Seeing the total, I audibly gasped at the size of Paul’s next bill.

Monique only rolled her kohl-lined eyes. ‘This is nothing compared to the bill I wracked up two months ago.’

‘What if Paul never gives you the money?’ I asked Monique once we were in the elevator, on our way back to the penthouse.

Monique shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’m applying for jobs because I need some money to launch my modelling career. I know I’ve got what it takes but, really, I know I’m at a dead end. I wouldn’t be hanging around like this if it wasn’t the last option.’

I nodded. It did seem Monique was in a sticky situation.

‘So, are you going to help me or not?’

‘Of course I’m going to help you- both you and Paul. That’s why he brought me here.’ I explained. ‘I’m the impartial third party that’s supposed to help you both come to a resolution.’

The elevator doors opened and we dumped our bags into the foyer whilst Monique searched her handbag for her key, obviously given to her by Dr Slaski. ‘It’s hard to remember how impartial you are when I come back to you two-.’ Monique gasped ‘Paul!’

We’d opened the door only to find Paul, lying prone on the floor. We both ran over to him and checked he was still breathing. He was, luckily, although he also had a huge lump on his head. His eyelids were fluttering as we spoke.

‘Paul, can you hear me?’

‘Of course I can,’ Paul went to push himself up, but I put a restraining hand on him.

‘Just turn onto your back for now,’ I told him. ‘It looks like you’ve had a nasty bump on the head.’

‘You’re telling me.’

Paul gently flipped himself over. Monique and I were sitting on either side of him. As I gently inspected the lump on his head, Monique stared down at Paul, her expression openly worried.

‘You need to call off your attack dog.’

Monique recoiled as if she’d been struck. ‘What?’

Now, mediators- or shifters- are extremely hard to kill. I’d been flung around more times than I’d like to count but, even I had to admit, Paul had taken his fair share of abuse.

‘Tell... tell him to stop.’

Monique stood. ‘If you could think I had anything to do with…’

‘Stop,’ I told Monique. ‘Just help me lift him onto the sofa.’

Grudgingly, she did.

Once Paul was safely situated, I turned around and called out. ‘Dr. Slaski? Dr. Slaski, please can you join us?’

Instantly, the soft glow of the supernatural appeared in front of me, in the form of Paul’s grandpa.

‘Susan?’ His eyes flicked towards Paul. ‘What happened?’

‘Did you do this?’ I asked.

He shook his head slowly, ‘why would I hurt my own grandson?’ He looked passed me, to Paul, his expression worried, ‘Is he alright?’

‘Sorry, I had to ask.’ I spun around. ‘Paul, I think your grandad is telling the truth. He isn’t the one that’s been attacking you.’

Dr. Slaski was still looking at Paul. I could see the hurt evident in his eyes, ‘You thought I was attacking you? Why didn’t you say anything?’

Paul sat up a little more and began to look sheepish as he gently touched the lump on his head.

‘Because he’s stubborn,’ I answered for him. ‘And proud.’

‘But, what’s been happening?’ Monique asked. She’d sat down on the sofa next to Paul. ‘You were being attacked all this time and you thought we were behind it?’

‘Well, you were the ones asking for my money.’ Paul’s tone was defensive.

‘Yes, asking!’ Monique shot back. ‘We’ve been asking for a year. What makes you think we’d suddenly turn to violence?’

‘Because you’ve been asking for a year. I thought you were getting impatient.’

‘There still begs the question,’ I said, cutting the budding argument short. ‘Who is dead and wants Paul to end up the same way? Probably a lot of people.’ I admitted. Paul, being Paul, had made a lot of enemies. ‘But I only know of one other person that feels strongly about this situation. There’s that and the fact that attacks have always happened when Monique wasn’t here. This person didn’t want Monique getting caught in the crossfire.’

Understanding dawned in Monique’s eyes. She stood and balled her hands into fists. ‘Grampa!’ she called, and began to pace around the living room. ‘Grampa, come here right now!’

And, just like that, we were joined by another ghostly presence, who- I could only assume- was Dr. Adrian Stevens, who was staring furiously at Paul.

‘Grampa, what have you been doing?’

‘Trying to make sure you got the money I was cheated out of!’ Dr. Stevens shouted back. ‘The Slaski’s are criminals, cheating and stepping over anyone that they can!’

Dr. Slaski’s expression was a mixture of grief and regret. ‘Adrian, I’m sorry.’

Furious tears slid down Monique’s face. ‘Grampa, I never asked you to try and kill someone in my name! I never wanted the money like this!’ The whole apartment started shaking and random objects rose into the air. ‘Grandad! Stop!’

Everything went clattering to the floor.

Monique picked up her handbag. ‘I’m leaving- I’m going back home. Paul-,’ she locked eyes with him, ‘- I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again. Do what you want with your money.’

She turned and marched towards the door, leaving the three of us to stare after her in silence.

‘Monique- wait.’

She stopped and turned to the person who had called after her. Unfortunately, that person was me.

‘You and Paul are the two most stubborn people I’ve met,’ I chastised the both of them. I turned to Dr. Stevens.

‘You are such an idiot,’ I told him which was pretty stupid, considering he’d been in a very homicidal mood not minutes ago. ‘You were trying to kill a guy your granddaughter has feelings for. Even dead, you are both,’ I pointed to Dr. Slaski too, ‘absolutely clueless.’

Paul and Monique were both looking anywhere but at each other. However, they certainly weren’t denying what I’d just said.

‘Monique, you were right. Paul was denying you the money to keep you around longer and, although he would never admit it, it really hurt him when he thought you were conspiring to kill him.

‘Although, apparently not enough to stop having feelings for you. I think he even respected you a little more after that.’ I shrugged. ‘What can I say, the guy’s a psychopath.’

‘Suze!’

I rolled my eyes. ‘Paul, just give Monique the money. Have faith that she’ll stick around after she’s gotten what she wants from you. Maybe even ask her out on a date like a normal person.’

Apparently, my little speech had caused every person in the apartment- both dead and alive- to grow really uncomfortable. Once I’d finished, everyone was silent until Paul broke it with a gusty sigh.

‘Okay, fine,’ he pointed towards a sideboard that happened to have fallen onto its side ‘If it’ll stop the attempts on my life. Suze- can you get my checkbook? I’m still feeling a little woozy.’

I followed his directions to the object in question and placed it upon the smashed coffee table.

‘Are you sure?’ Monique moved back towards the sofa and sat next to him as he was writing.

Paul tore off the check and handed it to Monique. ‘That’s not everything,’ he explained. ‘I’ll have to call my solicitors in the morning- liquidate a few things.’

‘No,’ Monique placed her hand over Paul’s. ‘It’s enough.’

The two looked at each other tentatively. Now it was my turn to feel uncomfortable.

‘My grandson has righted my wrong, Adrian.’ Dr. Slaski said. ‘I hope that’s enough to satisfy you.’

Dr. Steven’s was looking down at Monique and Paul. ‘It is.’ He turned Monique. ‘I’m sorry Monnie. I wanted what’s best for you.’

The tears returned to Monqiue’s eyes. ‘I know Grampa.’

At that, Dr. Steven’s faded away, hopefully to somewhere peaceful.

Dr. Slaski was also looking more and more translucent by the minute.

‘Thanks Pops,’ Paul said. He offered his grampa one of his evil smiles. ‘Don’t worry- I won’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.’

‘That fills me with confidence.’ Dr. Slaski said, with voice dripping with sarcasm and, with that, he was gone too.

*

Two days later, I was standing in the airport, ready to check in for my flight.

‘I could’ve flown you back on the jet,’ Paul reminded me for the hundredth time today. ‘It’ll be much more comfortable- or I could have upgraded you to first class.’

I smiled at him, ‘It’s fine.’

I had planned on staying a couple more days but I’d been starting to feel like a third wheel. Monique was staying in the apartment while she was looking for her own place and I was growing sick of the two of them mooning over each other.

Not that they realised that’s what they were doing, of course.

It was especially annoying, noticing how Paul would look at Monique while she wasn’t watching and seeing her doing exactly the same thing to him. They were being much too obvious; I wondered how I’d missed it before.

‘Well, I have to thank you, Suze.’ Paul smiled at me. Before, Paul’s smiles always seemed a little manic but, now, I could only see contentment behind his eyes. ‘In fact, you did such a good job, I’m giving you a bonus.’

‘Really, Paul, there’s no need.’

‘Are you sure? You might change your mind.’ Paul took my hand and folded a small, metallic object into it. ‘I’ll have the documents sent over to you tomorrow.’  
When I opened my hand, I saw what he’d given me: a key.

‘My house?’ I asked.

Paul just nodded. ‘Yeah, your house. I’ve had one woman cost me a lot of money this week, I thought I’d go two for two.’

I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I just reached up and gave Paul a kiss on the cheek.

‘Good luck for your date tonight,’ I told him. ‘You two will be really good together.’

‘Thanks but,’ Paul closed his eyes and shook his head, ‘you have to know. You were first. You will always be my first.’

I frowned. ‘First what?’

Paul gave me a knowing smile and turned and left. I shook my head as I looked after him, exiting through the automatic doors. He always had to be cryptic with his goodbyes.

*

Paul was right- I did regret not letting him bump me up to first class. Coach was cramped and uncomfortable compared to the luxury and space of Paul’s jet.

I’d called Jake to pick me up from the airport but, as I looked through the throng of people waiting at arrivals, I didn’t see Jake.

I saw Jesse.

My heart leapt as it always did when I saw him. His dark eyes, searching through the people passing by, locked on mine the moment after I’d spotted him.

‘Querida, are you all right?’ he asked.

Even after our break up, Jesse always called me Querida. I felt like it was his own way of saying he still cared.

‘Of course,’ I told him as he took my luggage for me. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Jake confirmed you’d gone to New York with Paul Slater,’ Jesse explained. ‘I called him when I saw those pictures of you both here in the airport.’

‘Why? You thought Paul’d kidnapped me?’ I asked.

‘No, but…’ Jesse shook his head as he looked at me. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. Jake let me know you were coming back and I asked if I could pick you up instead. I should have known you could take care of yourself, even around Paul Slater.’

‘Of course,’ I told him smiling, ‘although I do appreciate the show of concern.’ I inclined my head to one of the shops nearby. ‘Since you’ve already come all this way, fancy a coffee?’

Jesse agreed and, once we’d purchased our beverages, sat down at a table together. Despite trying to act cool, I was secretly excited Jesse had felt the need to pick me up personally.

‘So, how have you been?’ I asked, breaking the silence.

‘Fine Querida. How have you been?’

I shrugged. ‘Yeah fine.’

Jesse stared deeply into my eyes. He didn’t look fine. ‘Sussanah, seeing you with Paul again, it made me very worried. And, of course, you’re free to choose whoever you spend your time with. The whole point of us breaking up was because you were so young when you met me. I wanted you to have the freedom to know the world and know what you wanted-,’

‘Jesse,’ I interrupted, ‘the point of us breaking up was so you could discover what your new life was like without me, without the reminder of all those years as a ghost. I’ve always known what I wanted.’

Jesse smiled at me, in that completely open way that made his whole face light up. ‘It seems we thought differently over the reasons for us parting ways.’  
‘Yeah, it does seem like that.’

‘So, what would you like to do Querida? Would you like to give us another chance?’

I didn’t say anything in reply, I just leaned over and kissed him. Hopefully, that was answer enough.


End file.
